THE day was here. Breakfast dishes were done and the house was locked up. The car packed and the rearview mirror arranged. Seat belts on. It was time. We snapped a selfie, posted it to Instagram, and backed out of the driveway. It was 7:20 a.m. on Thursday, October 19, and my mother and I were on our way. It was Day One of our seven-week USA road trip.
October 19. Starting mileage: 29,950.
The plan was to go South on backroads down to Estill Springs and then cut East on more backroads, turning North into North Carolina for the Smoky Mountains and Cherokee where we had a reservation for the night.
It was a perfect day for a drive with a Tennessee October-crisp temperature and brilliant sunshine. And it was the perfect time to take a trip. For the last few months, we’d debated, dreamed, deliberated, and finally decided to do it. My last day at work had been an auspicious Friday, October 13 and just a few days after, I’d flown to Tennessee to make final preparations with my mom, Lucy. And now, here we were, on the route. High hopes, nervous energy, a few nagging worries about costs and routes and places to stay, and an awakening feeling of release and relief. We were on our way!
First, Estill Springs
Estill Springs was our first stop. It had to be. It was the place the two of us used to go on annual vacations when money was tight. Years ago, friends of my mom lived there in a nice house surrounded by woods. I have no idea where in Estill Springs their house was. But it felt remote, exotic. Mama and I would always sleep in their attic guest bedroom, eat delicious home-cooked meals in the screened-in porch, and walk among those tall pines. They had a dog, and a boy a little younger than me. We’d play in the woods, ride bikes, and set up little towns to drive Matchbox cars around. I’m not sure how long we stayed on these trips–could have been a long weekend, or a week. Time seemed to relax and spread out a little. Estill Springs is not that far from Nashville. But just like those old vacations, it took a while to get there. We arrived to nothing that looked familiar, and snapped a few shots in front of the only thing we could find that said Estill Springs, the City Hall. And unlike those old vacations, today we kept going.
Onward
I’d gone old school for this trip. The very day Lucy said, “Ok, I’ll go,” I walked to the local travel garb store and bought an oversized Road Atlas, complete with special entries for all the National Parks. In the six weeks from “Ok, I’ll go” to “GO!”, I’d been plotting our course, studying the map, and jotting notes for backroads to other backroads to landmarks and destinations. I intended to bypass the bland major highways as much as possible–though I realized that the interstates were necessary time savers. So, after a few hours of driving old Tennessee roads past fields and cows, and getting twisted up from my written directions, we got on I-24 going southeast. By then, it was time for lunch. And we weren’t even one-third of the way to Cherokee.
As moms will do, Lucy had packed lunch. We stopped at the Nickajack Reservoir – Ladds Rest Area for a picnic. I’ve never seen a prettier rest stop. It was a little island, peaceful. We took our time, letting it all soak in–the warm October sunshine, the reservoir view, the homemade pimento cheese, and the fact that we were on the trip of a lifetime. Even now, that hour at the rest stop is one of my most vivid memories of the trip.
Cherokee, NC
We drove on, and on, and on. Stopping here and there for photos…like at the Ocoee River. Mama knew how to say it–“o-CO-ee”. And when it rolled off her tongue, I remembered that I used to know that. I repeated it out loud and a hundred more times in my head. Just like the time she told me the Obey River near Celina is said “O-bee”–but that’s another story for another day.
Eventually we drove into North Carolina, and found our hotel in Cherokee just before dark.
This first night tested us. There was the checking in and getting a key that didn’t work. And then there was the unloading–lots of suitcases, a bag of food, and a cooler. We discovered we wanted to do different things. We both worried about the money. And we’d lost an hour of daylight moving from Central to Eastern time zone. Lucy wanted to see the casino. I wanted to go into the Smokies. But it was silly money to park at the casino and then there were no spaces. And it was too dark to drive up into the mountains. We were hungry and didn’t know where to go to eat–couldn’t even decide what we wanted. We settled on a cheap fast food dinner and early turn-in. Of all the nights for rambunctious kids to be anywhere near me, they were in the room above ours–jumping on their beds and screaming until we–at last–heard water running and their mom call “Bath time!” If playtime continued after bath time, I didn’t hear it.
October 20. Starting mileage 30,238.
The next morning after loading up, we stopped for a buffet breakfast with pancakes. Buoyed by the comfort food and a fresh day starting far from our routines, we idled around Cherokee. We wandered around an old stone church, noted that the street signs were in Cherokee and English, and poked around a few souvenir shops. Years and years ago, I remember coming to the Smoky Mountains with both Mama and Daddy. I don’t think the souvenir options have changed much in all that time–play tomahawks, tiny doll papooses, suede moccasins, and little hand-carved trinkets, alongside boiled peanuts, birdhouses, and mesmerizing spinning yard ornaments and wind chimes.
After a couple of hours dallying around Cherokee, we headed north for Washington D.C. Yes, we’d like more time in Cherokee–to see the old settlements in Cherokee Nation, play at the casino, and use the National Park pass to see the Smoky Mountains. But the sun was out, our worries lifted, and today’s long road stretched out before us.
